


Domestic

by mexicanfood420



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Fluff, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Sam-Centric, The Cage, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:43:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mexicanfood420/pseuds/mexicanfood420
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's only been dealing with Lucifer piloting him around for a few days, but, he's been having visions of him for years. Dreams, too. And they all led him here. He's been promised peace, love, and a future that isn't all just death and sacrifice. So, here he is, jumping into a vortex in some old boneyard outside Lawrence with all his trust in the archangel that calls him his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> Take's place right after Sam jumps into the cage at Stull Cemetery. Basically, Lucifer puts up absolutely no fight and is totally fine with going back to the cage with Sam. Michael and Adam never came back, so they're just floating up there somewhere probably making out with Dean. It's just Sam and his angel in the cage all alone. I wonder what will happen. There isn't gonna be the naughty in this, so, sorry folks. Fluff for days. It's pretty much just my interpretation of what I believed the cage would be like. I wrote this a few months ago and it's just been sitting in my google docs. And, now that we know what it looks like from the outside, I figured it'd be a good time to post it. This is most likely a one shot, but if anyone's actually interested in a sequel, hit me the fuck up and I'd be happy to write more. Enjoy! As always, comments are extremely appreciated.

Sam's falling.  
  
He knows he is.  
  
Well, of course he is.  
  
He just jumped into a giant, swirling hole in the ground.  
  
With Lucifer inside of him.  
  
Lucifer.   
  
The Morningstar.   
  
Devil.   
  
_Satan_.  
  
The rightful father of murder.  
  
"Ooo, kinky."  
  
He can still hear that stupid voice of his in his head while he's falling into Hell.  
  
He'd actually thought Lucifer might be a little less goofy than he always was, since he's also falling back into his cage, but, for some reason unbeknownst to Sam, he sounded as happy as ever.  
  
Cheery, even.  
  
It was only a little bit unnerving.  
  
And, when Sam had taken back control of his body, there was little to no fight from Lucifer.  
  
Sam had been a hunter for too damn long to not know when something was too easy.  
  
He can feel the tearing, too.   
  
He can feel Lucifer's grace leaving his body.   
  
It's more of a flesh-ripping-away-from-flesh feeling than Sam had initially imagined it would be.  
  
It's understandable, however, since Sam is breaking up with his one true mate.  
  
He thought it'd feel like what'd happened at first, when Lucifer first took him as his vessel.  
  
His grace was gentle as it made its way inside of him, the cool, electric feeling of an angel taking their rightful place inside of you is nothing like anything else, apparently.  
  
He could feel Lucifer's grace filling up all the little spaces and holes inside of his torn body, making him feel how he'd always craved.  
  
Sam wouldn't lie.  
  
He did feel whole.  
  
That didn't mean he'd ever admit it to anyone, however.  
  
Except Lucifer.  
  
Who felt the exact same.  
  
He finally felt like he had someone he could trust anything with, trust with his innermost thoughts.  
  
Because he was in his fucking head.  
  
And he had no choice, really.  
  
Except he did.  
  
He knew he could still force Lucifer out.  
  
And, now that it was being done without his consent, it was painful.  
  
Because he _didn't_ want Lucifer to go.  
  
But, tumbling back down to Hell, a force was ripping them away from one another.  
  
It made sense that they wouldn’t be able to be together in the cage.  
  
It was Hell, for fucks sake.  
  
Whatever he had with Lucifer felt _real_ and _pure_ and _good_.  
  
And, right now, feeling that purity and something definitely along the lines of love being literally ripped out of him...  
  
Sam Winchester had felt so much pain in his life, so much sorrow and regret, so much betrayal and brutality...  
  
 _Nothing_ had ever felt like this before.  
  
It wasn't the flames of Hell.  
  
It wasn't the torment he felt when Jessica burned right above him.  
  
It wasn't the agony he felt when he realized what Azazel had done to him.  
  
When he realized what he was.  
  
It wasn't the regret.  
  
It wasn't the sorrow.  
  
This was different.  
  
His skin was burning, but he could barely feel that.  
  
There was a thick, wet slapping sound.  
  
Similar to one of bones breaking and ripping blood vessels.  
  
Sam felt the snap.  
  
Felt the snap when Lucifer had finally left his vessel completely.  
  
He'd expected it to hurt more afterwards.  
  
But... He could definitely feel something around him.  
  
Silky, strong, radiating power...  
  
They felt similar to arms, a few of them, at least.  
  
They were far too large to be arms, however.  
  
They were cradling him, wrapped around him and seemingly keeping him from experiencing the full effects.  
  
It wasn't until Sam opened his eyes that he realized he wasn't falling anymore.  
  
He was in a bed.  
  
In a regular-looking home.  
  
The walls had obnoxious floral patterns and the ceiling was an eggshell white color.  
  
Sam sat up in the bed, eyes and features similar to those of a frantic squirrel.  
  
He looked down at his arms, seeing a few singed hairs but otherwise no other effects from his fall.  
  
He looked around the room next, seeing a few choice items.  
  
A ratty-looking television set right in front of the bed sitting on a half-busted stand, brown curtains, a purple lamp near the closet, and...  
  
There was a beautiful vase of roses on the wooden nightstand next to the bed, along with a small, folded piece of pink paper that matched the flowers perfectly.  
  
He reached over, hesitantly taking the piece of paper.   
  
He didn't feel safe.  
  
He felt empty, he felt scared.  
  
Sam looked over the piece of dense paper, the type that's used to make cards or at the post office, making sure to check the back and front before opening it.  
  
 _‘Join me downstairs, will you? I've been waiting forever for you, Sam. We both know that’s absolutely in the literal sense._  
  
 _\--Me, idiot. xoxo'_  
  
Sam sat down the note again.  
  
He allowed himself to breathe, huffing in some air before exhaling.  
  
And, sure enough, he could see his breath.  
  
The room was cold.  
  
He tried not to jump to immediate conclusions.  
  
But, it really wasn't a tough situation.  
  
He obviously wasn't on Earth.  
  
The room was abnormally cold.  
  
Pink flowers in a blue vase with a cheesy card?  
  
Come on.  
  
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.  
  
Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking down at his feet before checking to see if he had teeth.  
  
He remembered reading somewhere that you don't have feet or teeth in dreams.  
  
And this... This seemed very dream-like. Suspiciously so.  
  
Sam allowed his breathing to even out, feeling his heart pounding way too fast in his chest.  
  
Well, that's a good sign.  
  
He silently wondered what’d happen if he had a heart attack in Hell.  
  
He took his first step slowly, testing out the waters.  
  
The floor creaked just a little bit under his bare foot, and he took another, and another.  
  
Sam approached the closet soon enough, sliding it open and staring at the clothes inside.  
  
There was a lot of flannel, that's for sure.  
  
And suits.  
  
And just some casual, everyday clothing that Sam couldn't help but picture Lucifer in.  
  
It was hard, since he'd only ever seen Lucifer in that one, horribly green outfit.  
  
...And in his own body...  
  
He pushed away the thought, much rather wanting to check out the rest of the room.  
  
He did so rather quickly, since it wasn't all too big.  
  
He checked out the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom.  
  
It was decked out in frilly _everything,_ even having a bunch of soaps and conditioners of all kinds.  
  
There were also two toothbrushes. One was a bright pink, and the other was green.  
  
It was an all around pretty bathroom, stocked to the brim and smelled like apricots.  
  
Sam left the room, walking out the door and through the bedroom again. He made his way out into the hallway, met with a set of stairs.  
  
After taking a slow, cleansing breath, he began his descent downwards. He walked down the groaning steps, hand gripping the rail tightly in case they decided to collapse or spontaneously combust or something.  
  
Because, after today, he supposed that nothing could surprise him.  
  
  
Well, except maybe the sight in front of him.  
  
Lucifer was currently hovering around the dingy kitchen of the home, gathering ingredients and dropping them haphazardly into several frying pans.  
  
There was a small, compact television at one of the corners in the kitchen, supposedly directing Lucifer on how to make whatever food he was currently obsessing over.  
  
Sam was aware of some angry british chef yelling on said television.  
  
“Ah, Sam. How nice of you to join us.”  
  
The Winchester looked around, honestly expecting to see someone else down here with them.  
  
“Uh, and by ‘us’ I mean me.”  
  
Lucifer hadn’t even looked back at him, simply continuing to throw ingredients from a rusty, motel-quality fridge into a few pans, stirring them up with a wooden spoon every couple moments as he’d been directed.  
  
“How are you in that vessel?”  
  
Lucifer was absolutely in Nick. His hair was blond and as perfectly tousled as ever, eyes blue and icy, form broad and legs as impossibly long as they’d always been.  
  
He looked back at Sam after that question, eyebrows faltering and eyes looking almost annoyed.  
  
“Really, Sam? _That’s_ the first question you ask?”  
  
He’d been expecting something else, apparently.  
  
“Well, I kind of expected hellfire and my skin being ripped apart. Forgive me if I’m a little relieved. I didn’t expect a pink card and, uh, what is that? Eggs?”  
  
“Excuse you, Sammy. This is about to be Chef Ramsay’s healthy full English Breakfast.”  
  
“We’re not British.”  
  
“Neither is Balthazar. But, that’s never stopped him from deflowering half of Europe every century or two.”  
  
Sam couldn’t help but laugh despite the horribleness of the situation they were in together.  
  
“You gonna answer my question?”  
  
“Daddy thought it’d be best for you to see me like this.”  
  
Sam was the one with the faltered eyebrows now.  
  
“Alright, alright. Fine.”  
  
Lucifer fluidly moved a pan off the stove, putting his right hand on the hot burner.  
  
He groaned, letting out a sharp noise of pain before pulling his hand away and holding it up in front of Sam’s face, who had drifted closer to him at some point.  
  
Sam’s eyes were wide, staring at the red, hot burn mark on Lucifer’s hand.  
  
“I’m human.” He shrugged, putting the pan back on the burner before going over to the sink and turning on the cold water.  
  
The younger man followed him, instinctively taking Lucifer’s arm as gently as possible before sticking it under the cold water.  
  
Dean had been burned too many times while attempting to cook for Sam not to know how to take care of burns.  
  
He was looking down into the sink, but he could feel Lucifer smiling at him.  
  
“Have you always been human in here?” Sam heard himself asking, but definitely hadn’t given consent to his mouth.  
  
“Yep. My father and Michael thought it’d be funny. Making me become what I hate the most? Maybe teach me a lesson, too. The funny part is how that all really worked out.”  
  
There was long, drawn out silence after that. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, just simply accepted and _there_.  
  
Eventually, Sam spoke up again.  
  
“Why is it so cold down here?”  
  
“Believe it or not, you’ve been down here for a long, long time, Sam.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your body has gotten used to it. And, uh, I may have helped a little bit when I was juiced up. If I hadn’t, you’d be a cute little pile of ash at the moment.”  
  


Sam was quiet again, thinking a few things over.

“When we were falling…”

“Those were my wings, yeah.”

Even when he was human it was still like Lucifer could read his mind.

Sam looked down, remembering the feeling of having them around him. He spoke up again before he could get too lost in the thought.

“If you’re human… Why aren’t you burning up?”  
  
Lucifer barked out a laugh, unable to help himself.  
  
“I’ve spent eternity down here, Sam. Being without my mojo isn’t going to change that.”  
  
Sam was quiet for a while, still holding Lucifer’s hand under the cold stream of water.  
  
“Why are you warm now?”  
  
“I feel warm to you?”  
  
It was Lucifer’s turn to look shocked.  
  
He reached his non-burnt hand over to Sam, touching his arm.  
  
“Y-Yeah, I mean… You’re not too hot or anything. Just… Warm. It’s kind of nice, actually. Because I’m freezing.”  
  
Sam looked up at him finally, met with that damn grin on his face.  
  
“Oh, how the tables have turned, Sammy.”  
  
It was actually kind of funny.

Sam had only ever experienced Lucifer being a walking, talking block of ice; someone just looking so purely filled with sin and evil.  
  
But now, as he cooked Sam a healthy full English Breakfast, he could only see him for what he truly was.  
  
A misunderstood, warm, loving guy.  
  
He’d never been cruel to Sam, never even lied to him. Ever.  
  
And, when Lucifer was in him, he could truly see what the archangel was thinking. What he was actually going through.  
  
And he knew that Lucifer loved him.  
  
He didn’t think the devil even realized it, but, Sam could feel it. He could feel the heat, the warmth and the love radiating off of Lucifer’s vessel.  
  
...And it felt _great_.  
  
“You think too much.”  
  
Sam heard Lucifer speak, pulling himself out of the faded reality his mind had worked up for him. He couldn’t deny it. He absolutely did think too much.  
  
The blond was back at the stove, plating up his culinary masterpiece on two large plates. He carried them over to the peeling, muggy old table in the center of the room, setting one down on either side of it.  
  
“Ta-da!” Lucifer grinned, looking very proud of himself.  
  
Turning, Sam grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge. He looked back at Lucifer, not willing to keep his smile a secret anymore.  
  
“Glasses?”  
  
“Cabinet to the right of the sink.”  
  
Lucifer sat himself down rather awkwardly, sitting on his leg and rubbing his palms together. He soon realized what was missing, turning around and grabbing two forks from the drawer behind his chair. He tossed one across the table in the general direction of Sam’s plate, gracefully only managing to send a couple pieces of egg flying.  
  
Sam turned back around once he’d gotten the glasses, pouring some juice for both him and Lucifer.  
  
He couldn’t help but feel comfortable here with him.  
  
It was quaint, quiet little house. Filled with lots of little dents and creaks and noises that Sam couldn’t quite place. ...And it was _Lucifer_. Someone he absolutely trusted with his body and mind.  
  
It was hard not to feel at home here.  
  
And, by the shit-eating grin on Lucifer’s face, he could tell, too.  
  
“Shall we say grace?”  
  
Sam fucking _snorted_.  
  
“What? Isn’t that what humans do before meals?”  
  
Sam was still laughing, allowing himself to relax and start to eat his meal.  
  
“I don’t understand what is so funny.”  
  
“Yes you do. Just eat your eggs.”  
  
“It’s a healthy full English Breakfast, Sam.”  
  
Sam just simply rolled his eyes, looking back down at his plate and pushing around the food a bit before gathering some eggs onto his fork.  
  
  
Lucifer must have caught the small action.  
  
“The poison should taste a little sweet. I hope you like it.”  
  
“You never shut up, do you? Not even in your cage?” Sam had an amused smile on his face, chewing his eggs and toast.  
  
“Now, Sammy, I thought you knew me better than that. Get’s tough not having anyone to talk to for billions of years, y’know?” Lucifer was smiling, looking over at Sam almost dreamily. “I refuse to waste this opportunity.”  
  
Sam just shook his head, chuckling and taking a sip of his OJ.  
  
“So,” The brunette started, looking from his plate up to the man across the table. “Are you gonna explain how this all works anytime soon?”  
  
Lucifer just chuckled a little bit, speaking through a complete mouthful of his breakfast.  
  
“Well, it works just like you’d think. You, me, locked ward. Cage. House-thing. You know.” He paused, swallowing his food and going for a sip of juice. “Basically, we’re both human, and we can’t get out. We’ve got a few tv’s and an infinite amount of cards. Oh, and you should see my wine cellar!”  
  
“You’ve really made yourself a home here…” Sam looked upwards. “It all just… Seems kind of human.”  
  
Lucifer silent for a few moments, either thinking it over or not thinking at all. His face was the definition of expressionless, pushing around his food with his fork.  
  
“If the shoe fits.”  
  
  
Breakfast was over soon after that. Lucifer got up first, gathering the pans from the stove and putting them, along with his plate and glass, into the dishwasher.  
  
“Why a house?” Sam asked quietly, finishing off his ham.  
  
“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe to give me the full effect of being human?” The devil shrugged, turning back around and scooping up Sam’s empty plate.  
  
Sam downed his juice after that, handing his glass to Lucifer as he stood, who happily took it.  
  
“So… God made you into a housewife?”  
  
Lucifer smiled at Sam over his shoulder, shrugging again and going back to putting the dishes in the washer. He turned it on, closing it before turning to Sam again.  
  
“Only for you, Sammy.”  
  
Sam was looking away, honestly happy that he was because fuck if his cheeks didn’t get a little pink and his heart didn’t skip a beat after that.  
  
He was smiling, too, looking around the kitchen. Well, basically anywhere that wasn’t Lucifer.  
  
“Where’d you get the flowers?”  
  
Lucifer perked up at that, looking like a mixture of content and excited as he walked over and took his vessel’s hand. Sam went along with it, of course, being dragged along like a little puppy on a leash.   
  
To Sam’s surprise, Lucifer led him outside.  
  
“You can leave the house?”  
  
“The walls of the cage begin where the fence around the property is.” The ex-archangel explained, walking Sam over to a fairly impressive garden.  
  
He looked up, seeing a smudged out, suburban town. It was like there was an entire city around them, but they had the only house completely surrounded in frosted glass.  
  
Sam looked back down at the yard of flowers and vegetables and shrubs, spotting some too-pink roses and some delicious looking strawberries.  
  
“You have a garden in Hell?”  
  
“Heaven’s got one. Why shouldn’t we get one down here?”  
  
Sam just looked over at him, his expressionless gaze soon turning to one of amusal.  
  
It was nice being able to smile and laugh at the things Lucifer said.  
  
It was horrible having the devil in his head and being unable to even crack a grin at the hilarious things he was saying.  
  
But, here, he knew he was safe. He had his other half with him. And it was just them.  
  
No monsters, no responsibilities, no brothers telling you what you _have_ to do, what you _have_ to sacrifice, what you _can’t love_.  
  
Sam felt _free_.


End file.
